I hate when cold things touch certain parts of my body. I've never been a fan of jumping into a cold ocean or pool. If you have cold
hands, please don't touch my love handles, unless you're a sicko and want to see me recoil and scream, just for your own sadistic fun. When I think of all the
times I've taken an ice bath for recovery after a long run or marathon something doesn't jive. How could I ever fill a tub with with water and ice and sit in it—by choice—and then
later complain when my wife touches me with her wintery cold hands? Multiple personalities is one possible answer. We have no problem with
that idea.

Share an ice bath? No one I know would ever agree to that scenario. I probably could find someone on Craigslist, but that's
like playing Russian Ice Roulette. If it ever happens, all toenails will be cut before entering the icy waters.